


A Lack of Consent

by halfthewords (Sierra)



Series: citronshipping drabbles [3]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu-Gi-Oh! Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 01:22:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3190529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sierra/pseuds/halfthewords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Your ego and my lack of consent never did mesh well."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Lack of Consent

**Author's Note:**

> Written in late '07.

"You _started_ it."

"That's not the point. I was _drunk_."

"Not my fault you can't hold your liquor." A tube of toothpaste flew at Bakura's head, and he ducked a moment too late. He touched the graze on his forehead with a growl. "Fuck, Malik!"

Malik's head appeared from inside the bathroom, a toothbrush hanging from his mouth. "Don't dish it out if you can't take it," he mumbled around it. Then, he was gone again, rinsing his mouth, judging from the gargling sounds Bakura could hear. Rubbing his newest Malik-induced cut with a faint wince, he got up from the bed and stood in front of the bathroom, blocking Malik's way out with an arm barricading the doorway.

"Fact of the matter is, Malik, we slept together." Bakura lowered his voice a bit, smirking, "And I think you liked it."

Malik's response was a brusque, "If I don't remember it, I couldn't like it. Your ego and my lack of consent never _did_ mesh well." Having used Bakura's toothbrush, he paused before dropping it into the toilet bowl without another moment's thought.

Rolling his eyes, Bakura watched Malik drag a brush through his hair, and then begin applying his kohl. "That's always your excuse," he drawled. "I don't care what you _want_ to think, the point is that we still fucked. You can't just act like we didn't, Malik."

"No?" Malik's eyes caught Bakura's in the mirror. He screwed the cap back on his kohl bottle, and tossed the last of his things into his bag. "Watch me." He turned to face Bakura, an expectant expression on his face; Bakura continued to block the doorway with his arm.

"You're really taking all the fun out of this, you know," he said mildly.

Sliding the duffel bag onto his shoulder, Malik snorted. "There shouldn't be anything fun about it. The last time I saw you was six months ago. If you were wondering," an index finger pressed against Bakura's chest, "no, I'm not interested. It's quite pathetic that the only reason you got me in bed with you last night was because I was drunk, and you could have been the Pharaoh, for all I knew. Now, move."

Something in Bakura's expression wavered slightly. He lowered his arm a bit, asking slowly, "You've made up your mind?"

" _Yes_ ," Malik answered exasperatedly, resting a hand on his hip.

"Very well, then." At last, Bakura stepped back from the door and folded his arms, eyes following Malik as the he immediately strode past and out of the bedroom. He waited for the front door to close—slam, more like, considering it was Malik—before he laughed softly to himself. Sliding back onto the bed, he knocked aside a pillow, grinning down at the pile of jewellery he'd taken off Malik just before he'd started kissing him to silence him.

And, knowing Malik, he would be back for those armbands and neckbands before the day was out.


End file.
